


Abandon Hope, Those Who Enter

by Silvaloon



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvaloon/pseuds/Silvaloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of the season finale.  Alex Lannon seeks out Archangel Gabriel to continue learning about the tattoos that mark his body, and his path as the Chosen One.  Alex begins to gain insight into who he is and what he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abandon Hope, Those Who Enter

 

 

Hunched over with his hands on his knees, Alex inhaled deeply several times in an attempt to force his ragged breathing into some semblance of order.  His heart was pounding not only with the exertion of the climb he’d just undertaken, but with uneasiness as well.  He faced the cavernous opening of Gabriel’s aerie - dim lights were visible far to the interior while the external stone façade was dark and intimidating.  Structurally the entrance resembled a cathedral although, ironically, Alex viewed his seeking out of Gabriel akin to a descent into hell.  Forbiddingly, the darkening sky produced swirls of snowflakes with a temperature that was rapidly dropping as dusk overtook the rocky prominence.

 _‘What the fuck am I thinking?’_ Alex was appalled by his decision to seek Gabriel out.  The Enemy.  Alex knew he was ill-equipped to manage the Archangel who was very much an unknown quantity.  Even as his breathing settled after the arduous climb Alex was left with a deep sense of foreboding and self-doubt.  He remembered Michael’s words about being a _“reckless mess”,_ wondering if this decision would fit into that category.  _‘A lamb going to slaughter?’_   With only two options - either Gabriel or Uriel - Alex believed he had little choice if he were to grow in his understanding of the markings.  Neither of the two Archangels had seemed trustworthy; however, Alex’s interactions with Uriel had been – distasteful, to say the least.  Alex had settled on Gabriel, committing himself to this course.

Michael’s voice intruded “ _Don’t listen to my brother.”_

 _‘Fuck you Michael, Fuck! You!’_ Alex seethed.  In spite of disillusionment with Michael’s betrayal, Alex was flooded with a profound sense of grief and loss.  An image of Michael’s face at the last, lost and dazed, rose up.  Alex’s head dropped and he felt an oddly familiar ache in his chest.  When Jeep had vacated Alex’s life he’d been bewildered, desolate, had felt worthless, like now with Michael’s defection.  The new/old feelings of abandonment and betrayal surged, mutating into a sense of hopelessness.  Alex wondered if Michael might have, in time, come to understand.  He felt tears behind his eyes, recalling Michael’s words _“I promised Jeep and your mother I would protect you, keep you safe_.”  Alex slammed the lid on the direction his thoughts had been taking him.  ‘ _Michael doesn’t matter anymore.  Don’t think about him.’_  

Without warning, the tattoos began sliding sinuously across the skin on Alex’s torso and arms.  This restlessness had been occurring with increasing regularity since Michael left.  Alex twitched, unnerved by the disturbance but trying to ignore it.  Unexpectedly, shockingly, pain erupted across the markings with a sensation of jagged razors ripping across his skin, claiming all of his attention.   The agony radiated inward, piercing his core and collecting in a tangled knot in the pit of his stomach.   Alex’s gut roiled, tightened, and convulsed.  Stunned, he toppled to the ground, curling into a fetal position.  Teeth clenched, he tried to focus on the markings traversing his skin but couldn’t concentrate well enough to glean any message there.  The pain deepened and Alex became all too aware of exactly how vulnerable he was on Gabriel’s doorstep.   ‘ _Not now, not now, get up, outta here…’_ Unconsciousness claimed him.

Oddly aware of being in a trance, Alex gradually wakened to his surroundings.  He was relaxed, sitting on a bar-stool at the dinner table of his childhood home.  He remembered Jeep letting him pick that table - Alex had chosen a bar top because it seemed perfect for ‘two guys on their own’.  Jeep had just laughed when Alex told him that.   Looking around at the comfortable mess reminded Alex that he had known love, comfort, and security in this home.  Life had been good before Jeep left.   Alex’s gaze settled on an older male who was sitting opposite him at the table. Glimmering white hair belied the being’s pronounced vitality and youthfulness.  Hands resting on the table, his fingertips appeared stained a bluish color.  He was slender, dressed simply in white, with sable-colored wings unfurled behind him.  Like the others of his kind, he was beautiful.  _“Alex!  You need to start paying more attention to me now.  Pain seems to be the only way I can get you to focus!  I’d much rather not have to resort to that.”_ The voice was deep and resonant, patient with the gentle scolding.  Alex ‘felt’ the words physically the way he could feel thunder.  Surprisingly, Alex knew the language was Lishepus, the tongue spoken by the Archangels, and he was startled with his understanding.   Alex leaned forward to speak but disturbingly found himself unable to articulate any words.  _“It will be alright, you’ll learn in time.”_ Perceptive blue eyes regarded Alex kindly, a hand gently reached out across the table and caressed his brow and cheek; Alex’s distress faded with the comforting reassurance.  _“You want to know who I am?”_ Alex nodded.  _“My name is Enoch.  Do not tell Gabriel!”  _Alex had a sense of the angel shaking a finger at him in stern warning.  _“I’m not going anywhere, I won’t leave you.”_  Alex half-remembered those words being spoken to him before but couldn’t recall when.  Momentarily uneasy, Alex was overcome with fatigue and laid his head down on the table.  Remotely, he felt a hand ruffling his hair – he was reminded of his Dad and felt safe, content.  Alex drifted back into darkness.

 _“Look what the cat has dragged in!”_  Gabriel’s unmistakable voice rang out above him as Alex struggled to regain consciousness.   Derisive laughter emanated from several sources.  Alex’s ribcage was prodded insistently and he opened his eyes slowly.  Gabriel stood looking down at him, smirking, his boot planted in Alex’s midsection.  _“My boy! Finally - I knew you wouldn’t resist!  I do hope you were intending on coming inside?”_ The mocking tone was grating.  Alex was disoriented from his vision and unable to rise.  Gradually he became more aware of his surroundings and the fact that he had been unsurprisingly stripped of his weapons.  He realized he was no longer outside the aerie but had apparently been brought inside to – a throne room?  It appeared to be a new day judging by the sunlight he could see in the hallway beyond this room.  Angels and 8-balls were present and staring at him.  Alex felt like he’d taken a step back in time into a medieval castle equipped with the full regalia of that era.  Startled, _‘His taste is just as bad as Michael’s!’_ In any other circumstance, Alex might have laughed irreverently.  Instead, Alex reminded himself that Gabriel had offered to “guide” him, to help him understand the markings and his destiny better.  Alex’s sole purpose in coming here was to gain that knowledge in spite of the risk.  Gabriel nudged Alex again then leant down, grasped him by his arms, and hauled him to his feet.  Alex swayed dizzily and Gabriel’s gaze sharpened, dark eyes drilling into Alex, recognizing that Alex was in a compromised state at the moment.   Alex saw the wheels turning.

 _“You seem unwell Alex…”_ Hearing the question in Gabriel’s voice, Alex’s jaw tightened.  He returned Gabriel’s gaze resolutely.  A frisson of fear fluttered down his spine.  Jaggedly, painfully, Alex’s marked skin churned hidden by his clothes, leaving Alex wondering if that had any significance.  It didn’t take much to know that Gabriel was fishing for information.  Gabriel’s eyes pinned Alex as he silkily inquired _“What say you of Father’s markings?”_  Alex remained silent, blue eyes intently focused on the Archangel.  The tattoos shimmied uncomfortably and Alex questioned whether anything felt amiss to Gabriel who had his hands locked around Alex’s forearms.  Opposing the Archangel seemed ill-advised, but Alex certainly wasn’t into revealing anything about anything to Gabriel.  Alex attempted to shake the Archangel’s hands off his arms unsuccessfully.  Gabriel’s lips tightened.

Addressing Alex as he might a rebellious child, Gabriel admonished _“Alex, this won’t do.  You’ve come to me for guidance“-_ Gabriel’s hands slid up to Alex’s biceps, gripping his arms painfully - _“and we need to cooperate!”_ Using his body intimidatingly, he loomed over Alex.  “ _You’ve come to me, Alex!  Trust me, listen to me!  I’m not like Michael!”_ Alex wondered what the Archangel meant by that statement.  In what ways was Gabriel unlike his brother?  Less violent, more violent?  Less patient, more patient?   More truthful or less?  In any case, Gabriel’s irritation was pronounced.  Alex stumbled unsteadily when Gabriel released his hold unexpectedly.  The tattoos slithered in agitation.  

Inhaling deeply as he found his footing, Alex countered _“You’re not trustworthy!  You’ve exterminated humans, my people!  I won’t talk to you about these” -_ he gestured towards the tattoos- _“until I know you can be trusted.”_  Uneasily, Alex comprehended that defying Gabriel was asking for trouble.  Judging by his expression, Gabriel was beginning to have an inkling of Alex’s willful personality.  A failing perhaps, compliant behavior was not Alex’s strong suit.   Jeep leaving when Alex was 11 had insured that, requiring him to develop an exaggerated sense of autonomy and self-reliance.  He didn’t think the Archangel was going to be a fan of his independent streak.   Alex was acutely aware of the frenzied dance taking place across his skin

Without warning, Gabriel violently backhanded Alex, smashing him across the room against a stone bench.  Stunned, Alex laid there, blood running from a deep gash on his forehead.  Gabriel strode over to Alex and stood over him, placing his foot in the center of Alex’s chest.  The Archangel was clearly vexed by Alex’s defiance.   _“Alex, Alex, Alex!  I will provide you with guidance, I will help you learn about Father’s markings; I will teach, you will learn.  In return, obey me in all things. Or, suffer the consequences.  Don’t you see, that’s only fair?”  _ Gabriel’s conciliatory tone, at odds with the physical violence, infuriated Alex and he almost rose to the bait.  Almost.  The markings tumultuous movement settled noticeably when Alex refrained from reacting.  Alex met Gabriel’s stare obstinately as he attempted to knock Gabriel’s boot away.  Gabriel pressed down and Alex could feel his ribs strain.  He grunted with the pain, hands wrapped around the boot on his chest.  _“Agree Alex.”_ Gabriel’s eyes glittered dangerously contradicting the slight grin he had on his lips.  Gabriel read the anger on Alex’s face easily enough and seemed to enjoy getting that rise.

 _‘I’m fucked’_ Alex thought dazedly, beginning to appreciate the depth by which he was outreached.  Obedience being just a quaint notion, Alex had to wonder what “consequences” Gabriel referred to. ‘ _Probably find that out sooner or later’_ he acknowledged to himself with resignation. Alex struggled again to move Gabriel’s foot unsuccessfully, feeling the pressure increase perceptibly.  He gasped for breath, inhalation a struggle.  _“Agree Alex.”_ Gabriel reiterated persistently.  Alex felt pinned like a bug.  For now, the balance of power tilted in Gabriel’s direction.  _“Agreed.”_ Gabriel’s foot lifted off of him and Alex lay gasping for breath.

 _“Alex!  All of this is so unnecessary!”_ Gabriel drew a dizzy Alex to his feet, solicitously sat him down on the bench, and grasped Alex’s chin to angle his head for inspection.  Alex flinched as Gabriel drew his finger through the wound.  _“Ahh, let’s take care of this.”_  Gabriel’s hand left Alex’s face, making a gesture to someone outside of Alex’s sight.  Alex took that moment to more completely survey the room he found himself in.  It certainly had the appearance of mid-thirteenth century gothic with iron-works throughout.  A stone throne dominated one end of the room while the granite floor was littered with rugs and oversized silk pillows casually scattered around the room.  The furniture was heavy, dark, and either made of wood or stone.  Candles predominated as the source of light.  There was a bar set up, stocked with varied decanters of liquid.  Several of the higher angels and about a dozen or so 8-balls were present, lounging, drinking, their focus on the tableau taking place in front of them.  Alex noted an arched doorway at the other end of the room and his eyes settled on a familiar figure headed his way.  _“Noma!”_ Alex leapt to his feet, only to be pushed back down by Noma herself when she arrived to where he was.

 _“Noma…”_ Alex’s voice was low; he was so relieved to see her, apparently unharmed.  _“Shut up, Alex!  Hold this.”_ Noma was seething with anger, her green eyes so intense they were virtually glowing.  She wouldn’t make eye contact.  Unmistakably, Alex was the target of Noma’s anger.  Shoving a tray into his hands, Noma tightly laced her fingers into his hair and tilted his head back to look at his injury.  Alex made an effort to stand but Noma, firmly in control, tightened her hold on his hair and pulled him back down.  Alex winced and subsided reluctantly.  He could see Gabriel standing familiarly behind Noma, hand on her shoulder, smirk on his face.  Gabriel peered down at Alex while openly speaking into Noma’s ear _“And you were so convinced!  Aren’t we fortunate - our Chosen One apparently has a mind of his own!”_  It occurred to Alex once again that _“reckless mess”_ might refer to his more spontaneous choices, much like this one to come to Gabriel.  Alex intuited that Noma had predicted he would stay away.  Clearly, she was angry that he hadn’t.  The tattoos were curiously calm at the moment.

Noma tended the cut on his forehead, sopping up the blood with gauze from the tray.  _“Alex, you need stitches._ ”  She picked through the tray and came up with a needle and thread but Alex closed his hand over hers.  _“No.”_ Alex refused quietly but firmly, not releasing her hand when she attempted to pull away.  He disliked anyone taking care of him in that manner – too often, touch had been an instrument of pain in his life.  They made eye contact and it was then that he saw her fear.  He looked at her questioningly; her lips tightened almost imperceptibly and her eyes gave a warning before closing and breaking their communication.  Alex’s stomach churned and he could feel his tattoos shuddering, but the activity was more subdued than before.  Alex realized that there was no one that he trusted more to have his back; he was alarmed about what Noma was attempting to convey.  The silent exchange had gone unnoticed by Gabriel who had wandered back to his throne and plopped down there.  _“Alex, you need stitches.  Noma will do that.”_   Alex was irritated with Gabriel’s interference and wondered if it were just another way of flaunting his power.  _“I’d rather not.”_ The markings blazed, movement and pain intensifying all at once.  Gabriel looked at Alex with a pleasant countenance although his voice seemed strained.  _“Alex, so rebellious!  We had an agreement?”_   Alex perceived the unspoken threat and reluctantly allowed Noma to proceed with sewing the gash.  Without anesthetic, the pain was quite pronounced as Noma stitched his skin shut over his forehead.  Alex couldn’t help but flinch and recoil several times.  Curiously, Alex noticed Gabriel watching his reactions intently.

 _“Come with me Alex, there’s something I want to show you.”_   Noma’s fingernails unexpectedly dug into Alex’s shoulder as he was seated.  When he met her eyes again he very clearly recognized her warning to him – what, to be cooperative, to not be challenging?  She knew him only too well.  Gabriel spoke _“Noma, you don’t need to bother.  Stay here.  Perhaps you and Alex would like to be roomies tonight?”_ Gabriel’s tone was lewdly suggestive.  _“Fuck off, Gabriel!”_ Alex retorted, the words instantly slipping out.  Alex heard Noma’s swift intake of breath even as he observed Gabriel’s face darken.  _“We’re going to have to work on that Alex.”_  Gabriel strode out of the room without a backward glance, clearly expecting Alex to fall in line and follow.

Alex lost count of the turns, halls, and rooms they passed through, ascending a grand staircase at one point, only to continue to push more deeply into the aerie.  The dark stone and dimly lit interior was heavy and menacing.   Furiad and several others accompanied them at a distance.  Finally, Gabriel came to a set of doors, 15 feet high, highly polished dark wood, and ornately embellished.  Throwing the doors wide, Gabriel led Alex into a room filled with books, art, and religious relics.  A library, the room had a museum-like quality and was lined with filled bookshelves, floor to ceiling.  Reverentially, Gabriel stood directly under a painted dome.  The light casting down on Gabriel gave him an oddly ethereal glow.  A vaulted ceiling gave way to the dome in the center which was elaborately adorned with delicate frescoes of angels and cherubim.  Notably, the friezes distinctly resembled those on Michael’s ceiling in the Stratosphere. “ _This is a room Father would love.  It contains things that gave him great pleasure and that drew his pride in his human children.  Knowledge, creativity, beauty, faith...  Man’s greatest works.  In fact, all that is left of human greatness.  What happened to them, Alex?”_ Gabriel asked rhetorically, turning to regard him.

Alex was at a loss for words; he’d never seen anything quite like this room, these objects, the books.  He was just a simple soldier.  Clearly the contents were antiquities of the rarest sort and were of some importance to Gabriel.  Alex returned his gaze expressionlessly.  Abruptly, _“Father’s markings on your body, they belong in this room.  I want to see them now.  Remove your clothing Alex.”_ Alex had known Gabriel, like both Uriel and Michael, would want to view the tattoos on his body.  However, Alex was surprised by the depth of antagonism he felt, and how disinclined he was to reveal the markings to Gabriel.  Especially to Gabriel.  Unenthusiastically, he stripped his jacket and shirt off without commenting _.  “Everything Alex.”_   Gabriel demanded, locking eyes with Alex.  Alex flushed, his jaw set, his demeanor mutinous.  Gabriel scrutinized his expression, noting the stubborn set to Alex’s chin and his obvious lack of compliance _.  “Alex.  Your constant opposition is just not acceptable.  Very disobedient, boy.  Your father certainly failed to teach you your manners and respect for your elders.”_ Gabriel gestured and Furiad and his companions surged forward, brutally overpowering Alex with little effort.  Thrown to the floor, Alex was divested of his clothing in short order.  Unembarrassed by his nakedness, Alex found the act of being stripped humiliating and shaming however.  An all-too-familiar feeling of violation rose up as images of abuse from his childhood flooded him. _“Get up!”_ Gabriel commanded.  Alex was harshly jerked to his feet and securely held in place.

Gabriel approached Alex, staring at the tattoos on Alex’s body.  The markings had been still for quite some time and Alex fervently hoped that would continue.  Gabriel reached out reverently to touch and trace one of the strings of symbols slanting down diagonally across Alex’s chest.  _“Get your fucking hands off of me!”_ Alex ground out, infuriated.  He struggled unsuccessfully in the hold his captors had on him.  Ignoring Alex, Gabriel continued to inspect the markings adorning Alex’s body, occasionally tracing one strand or another with a fingertip sometimes, or the palm of his hand.  Alex could not prevent himself from flinching.  He was sweating and his body trembled involuntarily, residual artifacts of the trauma he carried from past abuses.  Tauntingly, Gabriel pressed his body up closely behind Alex, sliding his arm around Alex’s torso and splaying his right hand across the tattoos on Alex’s abdomen _._ Chin resting on Alex’s right shoulder, Gabriel whispered into his ear _“I own you Alex.  You’re mine now.  Michael discarded you, and I have retrieved you.  You may not like it, but that doesn’t matter.  The sooner you understand, the better off you’ll be.”_

Alex heard Gabriel chuckle maliciously as he placed his left hand on Alex’s left flank, stroking upwards, forward across his hip, up his ribcage. Gabriel’s right hand drifted lower, threatening sexual contact although that did not occur.  Alex shuddered with revulsion, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable.  Held rigidly, Alex was prevented from fighting or escaping Gabriel’s repulsive touch.  Unexpectedly, Gabriel withdrew his hands from Alex’s body, terminating physical contact.  Defenseless, Alex’s body quivered involuntarily while the hair on the back of his neck stood up.  Alex sensed Gabriel’s silent presence behind him.  Long moments passed.  Without warning, Alex felt a light touch on his lower back and he recoiled violently, then a caress across his shoulder blade with the same reaction on Alex’s part.  There was a long silence.  _“You’ve been abused.”_ Gabriel murmured perceptively.   Futilely, Alex wrenched himself against the hands that held him.  Gabriel’s disdainful laugh enraged Alex but at the same time the incapacitating horrors of his childhood rematerialized, emasculating him.  Gabriel was obviously cognizant of the torment Alex was experiencing and why, but seemed to derive pleasure from continuing to draw the ordeal out.

All of a sudden, Alex found himself freed.  Eyes closed, he drew several deep breaths while attempting to compose himself.  The trembling eased and Alex’s heart rate and breathing settled.  His skin flushed as fury took over.  Opening his eyes, he found Gabriel facing him directly _.  “You can have these back, nothing else.  Consequences are unpleasant.”_  Gabriel tossed Alex his pants.  He struggled to maintain an unreadable expression but Gabriel, ever astute, commented _“Alex, your anger is misdirected!  Your reactions arise from abuse at the hands of men.  Be angry with the father who failed to protect you, with the men who abused the innocent, vulnerable child you were.  How can you side with them? They’re not worth saving.”_ Gabriel was coldly condemning.  Clothing back in place, a barefoot and shirtless Alex stood watching as Gabriel wandered around the library, idly touching the delicate objects held there.  Alex was incensed.  He had lost his view of Gabriel as an ambiguity; Gabriel was predatory, cruel, sadistic…  Alex recognized that any inclination he’d had to attempt to work with Gabriel had flown.  The tattoos twitched.

 _“Alex, do the markings communicate with you?”_ Gabriel settled his eyes on Alex, willing a response.  Mulishly, Alex refused to answer.  The markings instantaneously began to roll across his torso.  Startled, Gabriel scrutinized Alex’s skin.  He strode over to Alex and gallingly placed a hand on his chest.  Promptly striking Gabriel’s hand away, Alex’s arms were instantly gripped from behind.   Gabriel reached up and wrapped his hand around Alex’s throat under his jaw, squeezing painfully.  _“Stop resisting!  You try me!”_   Gabriel refocused his attention on the tattoos, laying his hand on Alex’s skin again.  Musingly _“I can’t feel anything.  What does it feel like Alex, when they move like that_?”  The movement was tumultuous and Alex certainly felt the agitation internally.  Alex had a distinct image of the white-haired Angel from his vision firmly warning him not to talk about the tattoos in any way with Gabriel.  Alex lowered his head, not meeting Gabriel’s gaze.  _“Alex, your lack of cooperation is so very unfortunate. But, for any child, the right incentive needs to be found, hmm?  I just need to find yours.”_ Maddened, Alex wondered why the Archangels kept referring to him as a child, a boy, when he was a fully grown adult.

 _“We’ll continue working on this Alex.  Take him back.”_   Gabriel dismissively turned his back on Alex who was then propelled from the library by Furiad.  Furiad grasped Alex’s arm tightly, marching him back through the corridors and halls they had traversed earlier.  _“Watch it, Chosen One!  You’re not the only one at risk.  Your actions are likely to have a direct impact on anyone you care about.  Gabriel is clever in how he uses others.”_ Alex was chilled by the implications of Furiad’s message, particularly where Noma was concerned.  He was curious about what direction Furiad’s loyalties lay, finding it odd that the higher angel would give him any kind of warning at all.  Furiad did not speak again.  They finally passed back through the familiar grand hall just outside of Gabriel’s throne room.  Alex was led into a featureless hallway studded with a dozen identical doors.  Opening one, Furiad shoved him through the doorway, closing and locking it unequivocally.  Alex noted the stone walls and floor, the lack of furnishings or comforts of any kind.  One small window admitted a pale wash of light though that seemed to be dimming with dusk.  Throughout the day, the air had grown considerably colder and Alex realized that his lack of clothing was going to lead to an abysmally uncomfortable night.  He wondered about Noma, her whereabouts, what she was doing.  Exhausted and shaken by his encounter with Gabriel, Alex slid down the wall opposite the door, disinterested in a plate of food he saw in one corner.   

Alex closed his eyes wearily.  Intrusive images flashed through his head of long-ago events that had shaped him into the man he’d become.  Gabriel’s abuse today just topped off a long list of physical and sexual violations he’d undergone after Jeep left and before he’d found a place with the Archangel Corps.  Recalling the brutality and violence from that time of his life robbed Alex of breath, reigniting feelings of shame, abandonment, and worthlessness.  Alex had taken great pains to bury those episodes deeply but when they surfaced, he would inevitably shut down for a time.  Old demons he had spent so much time trying to overcome threatened to reemerge, compromising  the fragile sense of security Alex had been able to establish as a young adult.  The ambiguity of what he was facing with Gabriel was unnerving.  Alex heard the door being unlocked, opening his eyes in time to see Noma come stumbling into the room, thankfully looking unharmed.  She came and sat next to him, dropping her head back against the wall with a tired sigh.  Alex couldn’t prevent himself from flinching when Noma put her right hand on his thigh.  Alex was still too raw from his encounter with Gabriel to feel comfortable with touch, even from Noma. Noma knew about some of his past, but he’d never revealed details to anyone about what he’d experienced as an adolescent.  Unoffended, Noma looked at him appraisingly, taking in the bruised look in his eyes.  Clearly Noma understood Gabriel far better than he.  The look of compassion on her face was his undoing.  Alex shut his eyes and allowed his head to drop back, tears running silently down his cheeks.  Noma laced her fingers through his, not asking questions but wordlessly, unobtrusively, offering her support.  They stayed that way for a long time when Alex finally roused himself.  Noma was awake and had apparently been watching over him. 

Opening his mouth to speak, Noma gently shushed Alex with her finger.  _“Be quiet Alex, Gabriel hears every word.  I thought you learned more from Michael…”_   Their eyes locked.  Alex comprehended that Noma thought him a fool for coming to Gabriel and at this point, he had to agree.  Leaning back against the wall with his arms draped over his knees, Alex tiredly closed his eyes again.  _“I’m sorry”_ he whispered, subdued.  Images arose of the last time Alex had seen her as she left the water park, the conversation they’d had about things not being right between them – Alex had already forgiven Noma for deceiving him.  _“I’m not angry.  It wasn’t your fault.  I’m sorry.”_ he repeated.  Noma’s hand crept around his arm and she leaned against him, sighing heavily.  _“He’s not like Michael”_ she breathed.  _“He’s sadistic.  He’s going to hurt you to get what he wants out of you.  You shouldn’t have come.”_ Noma’s words confirmed thoughts that had been plaguing Alex all day.  They slumped there together, half asleep, content to share their warmth that way.  Sometime later Alex was startled half-awake when Noma pushed him over and curled up behind him, arms around him.  Missing half of his clothing, Alex was chilled.  Noma unfurled one wing and brought it around to cover them both.  He felt warmed and comforted by her presence.  Briefly he thought about what Furiad had revealed and he vowed to ask Noma about her thoughts on the matter in the morning.  Drained and apprehensive about what was to come, Alex fell into an exhausted sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping to do justice to the story that is trolling around in my head.


End file.
